Queen of Swords (19 page)

Chapter Twenty Two

She was still here.

Boone stretched, luxuriating in the relatively pain-free movement. His chest was still tight, the healing working below the surface, but he’d be out of bed today. Even his head felt clear, the fuzziness of pain meds burned away in his sleep. He cracked open an eye and looked at Ophelia. She was staring into space, one finger twirling the edge of her skirt. He squeezed the hand he still held and she looked down at him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” This wouldn’t do. She’d sat with him, held his hand, for who knew how long, and now she was trying to retreat behind an emotional wall. Her eyes, normally so vivid and snapping with energy, were devoid of any expression. Boone pushed himself up, gauging the few muscles that protested. Not many, not enough to stop him from doing what he’d wanted to ever since she walked into this room however many days ago.

He pulled on her hand, catching her off guard and unbalancing her.
With his free hand, Boone snagged the back of her neck and brought her closer. As soon as their lips brushed, she stopped struggling, her entire body going still. He leaned in and nibbled on her bottom lip, drawing a sigh. It was only then that he realized how nasty he tasted. And smelled. And how crusty the med-gel on his chest had gotten. “Hold that thought.”

Boone slid off the bed, his head spinning when he stood, and stumbled into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later he returned, showered with his teeth brushed. Ophelia was exactly where he left her, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Her gaze narrowed on him, raking over his chest as if expecting his guts to explode from the newly healed wounds at any moment. “You’re feeling better.”

“You could say that.” He let a slow grin spread over his face, delighting at the way her breath caught.

Ophelia watched him cross the room, biting her lip. “You’re not fully healed.”

That she felt she had to say it meant she was thinking along the same lines he was. Boone’s smile widened as he crawled across the bed to her. The few days of rest had done her good. The circles were nearly gone from beneath her eyes and her cheeks weren’t quite so hollow. His gaze fell to her mouth, watching as her tongue darted out and licked her bottom lip. “You’re going to kill me, woman.”

Ophelia took his face in her hands and kissed him. It was soft, her lips brushing over his, their breath intermingling. As sweet as it was, Boone wanted more. So much more.

He cupped the back of her neck and teased open her mouth, his tongue dancing along hers. She tasted of rosemary and peppermint, like the tea she’d been drinking. Boone’s entire body shuddered, and he couldn’t help tightening his grip on her. Instead of jerking away, Ophelia moaned and pressed closer, her chest separated from his by only a thin layer of pink cloth. He could have it off in seconds, could have her stretched below him again, naked and willing.

But Boone pulled back, just as he had every time before. Both of them were breathing hard, clinging to each other. He wanted to kiss her again, to keep going as the universe faded away until all he knew was Ophelia.

But he couldn’t, not if she didn’t trust him. His entire world was rocked after their first night together. Boone wasn’t generally one to fall hard—or at all—after a night with a woman, but something about Ophelia drew him in until he wanted to wrap himself up in her and never walk away. He needed her to be there, diving headfirst with him…and the only way he stood a chance of that was if she trusted him. Having sex with him might be something she could do on the fly, but Boone didn’t know if he could bounce back from it again.

Hells, who was he kidding? He’d never recovered from the first time. Sleeping with her again would just be another nail in his coffin.

“Ophelia.”

Her breath shuddered out, but she didn’t open her eyes. “Please don’t do this.”

She was damn near pleading—or as close to pleading as Ophelia was capable of. Boone leaned back a little farther, wondering if this was going to go the way their other just-misses had. Couldn’t she trust him after everything they’d been through? Godsdamnit, she’d braved Sanctify to save him. That had to mean something. “Why?”

Ophelia shook her head. “Please, Boone.”

She wouldn’t say she trusted him.

Boone let go and sat back. His entire body felt too cold, as if the hurt of her rejection took physical form. He shook his head, refusing to feel anything at the single tear sliding from behind her closed lid. All it would have taken was three little words—
I trust you
—but she was going to let her pride come between them. Or maybe it wasn’t pride. Maybe she truly didn’t care about him. He exhaled harshly, half surprised when it didn’t mist the air. His stomach grumbled, giving him a much-needed distraction.

Leaving her on the bed, he walked to the InstaChef and programmed in a few selections. Damn Jenny and her blasted meddling. Right now he wanted to be anywhere but here, stuck in a room with Ophelia, her taste clinging to his lips.

…

It was everything she could do to beat back the words threatening to spill from her lips. Of course Ophelia trusted him—she knew he would never do anything intentionally to hurt her. But that was the stickler.
Intentionally
. This thing between them couldn’t last, couldn’t be forever.

She opened her eyes, dashing the tears away with the back of her hand. Boone stood across the room, his back to her, collecting plate after plate from the InstaChef. The smell hit her, making her gag. “Boone.”

He didn’t look at her as he sat at the table and started eating. She lasted until he cut into the pot pie and its smell saturated the room. She dashed into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time to vomit up all the tea she’d drank earlier. Afterward, she sat on the floor and rested her head on her knees, trying to get her breathing under control. Five minutes later, she stopped her pity party and got back on her feet. After brushing her teeth twice, she shivered. Going back out there would only making her start puking again. Instead, she turned on the sans shower, stripped down, and stepped under the spray. It’d been just over twenty-four hours since her last one and she figured she was due. As she scrubbed away the smell of sickness, her thoughts turned back to Boone, and something became clear.

Maybe this couldn’t last forever…but what was stopping her from enjoying Boone while she had him? Only an idiot would turn down a willing, smoking hot partner who’d already proven he could make her scream. She already knew she couldn’t walk away unscathed—hells, she was having his kid, after all—so there was no reason to deny herself now.

Since she’d already decided, she saw no reason to wait. Ophelia shut off the shower and dried off quickly, not bothering to get dressed. Boone had disposed the remains of his meal and was stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t look over as she walked back into the room, not seeming to notice her at all. That wouldn’t do.

“Boone.” Ophelia said his name sharper than she intended, but he was being an ass. Okay, maybe
she
was being the ass. Whatever. Still, she made an effort to temper her tone. “Boone, please look at me.”

He turned his head a few centimeters, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes. Ophelia swallowed hard, trying to get the words to unstick. There was no going back now. In reality, there’d been no going back as soon as she woke up next to him. But damn if it wouldn’t have been easier to say this in the heat of the moment, rather than standing across the room from him, with only a towel to shield her.

Straightening her spine, Ophelia lifted her chin. “I trust you.”

He was off the bed and across the room before she could react, close enough that a deep breath would have closed the distance between them. “What did you say?”

She licked her lips, warming when his gaze followed the motion. He was giving her a way out, giving her a chance to back down. But it was too late, far too late. “I trust you, totally and completely,” Ophelia whispered.

Boone pulled her against him slowly, until all she felt, all she smelled, was him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned his forehead against hers. Ophelia tensed. Surely she hadn’t just laid herself out there only for him to reject her?

“I’m going to make you scream my name.”

A shiver racked her body, and she clutched at his shoulders, swaying. “Boone—”

He grinned, making things low in her body clench in anticipation. “That’s a start.” Twining her hair around his fist, he pulled her neck slowly to the side, giving her plenty of time to protest. Didn’t he know she was so far beyond that now? She reached between them and cupped him through his thin pants. Before she had a chance to enjoy his moan, he bit the soft spot where her shoulder met her neck, easily catching her when her knees went weak. One tiny spot of skin should not be able to lay her out. It was just wrong.

Boone did away with her towel, his hands seeming to be everywhere—her back, her ass, her ribs, her shoulders—but never down far enough to reach the place that throbbed for him. When his fingers skimmed the sides of her breasts, barely more than touching, she’d had enough.

Ophelia dropped to her knees, surprising him. She had his pants off in under half a second, and then she merely took in the sight of him. Not pretty, no, but it was all she could do not to tackle him to the floor and have her way with him. A memory hit her hard enough to make her rock back on her heels. She’d done just that the night they were together, had rode him to a sweaty, shuddering finish.

Slowly, prolonging the moment, she raised her gaze, following the dark trail of hair up his stomach and over his chest, to find him watching her with eyes gone smoky with passion.

“Come here,” he whispered.

Instead, she gave him a wicked grin and ducked sideways under his reach. He caught her like she knew he would, tackling them both to the bed. Ophelia wriggled against him, loving the feel of his bare skin against her own. Boone flipped her onto her back and pinned her arms over her head. “Gods, woman, stop that.”

“Stop what? This.” She arched her back. “Or this?” Hooking her left leg around his hip, Ophelia rotated her hips, rubbing against the hard length of him.

Boone cursed and kissed her, making her forget all about teasing. Ophelia writhed, wanting him closer, needing him closer. “Boone. Please. Now.”

Chapter Twenty Three

This woman was going to be the death of him. All Boone’s plans of a slow seduction flew out the window when he got her beneath him. Not really surprising, since, even when he was so angry he couldn’t see straight, he still wanted Ophelia. After four weeks of building heat between them, he was about to lose his shit just kissing her. He tried to pull back, to gain some control, but she clung to him, driving him insane with her flowery smell, with the softness of her skin, both so at odds with her personality. And that damn whimper.

“Boone. Please.” Ophelia leaned over and swiped her tongue up his throat, making his eyes damn near roll back in his head. “I can’t wait any longer.”

He shifted sideways, letting go of her wrists with one hand and running his fingers up her thigh. She shuddered when he stroked her, finding her just as hot and wet as he remembered. Twisting his wrist, he found the spot proven to drive her nuts.

Ophelia kissed him, pushing against his hold as she bucked beneath his hand. He kept up the rhythm, flicking fingertips over that spot again and again as her body tensed beneath him. Breaking the kiss, she threw her head back, giving him the opportunity to nibble down the side of her neck, going for the spot where it met her shoulder. As her body began spasming around his fingers, he bit her there.

“Boone!” Shrieking, Ophelia broke his grip on his wrists, clawing his back as she came.

He waited until she opened her eyes before licking his fingers, tasting her. It was exactly what he’d been dreaming about for weeks—and he wanted more—but it would have to be enough for now. Boone couldn’t wait any longer.

Ophelia must have felt the same way because she pulled a fancy move, rolling them until she rose above him, grinning. She reached down and traced his face, her touch leaving a burning path on his skin. “I remember this.”

She remembered
.

He wasn’t sure why it meant so much now, but it did. Boone hooked a hand around her neck and pulled her down for a kiss. The only warning he got was her hand snaking down his stomach and then he was inside her. And, oh, what a glorious place to be. Grabbing her hips to keep her still, he looked up. Even with the lost weight, her breasts were the most perfect he’d seen, round and pert and tipped with rosy nipples. He captured one with his mouth, making her hips jerk. Gods, he could be inside this woman forever.

Cupping the back of his head, Ophelia’s breath hissed out. “Don’t stop.”

When she started to move, he released his death grip, wrapping one arm around her hips and freeing up the other hand to cup her neglected left breast. Every stroke brought him closer and closer to losing it. He tried to slow her down, but she was having none of it. Then Ophelia rotated her hips in a quick circle, and Boone’s control vanished.

Falling back onto the bed, he grabbed her hips and pounded into her. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow down, couldn’t turn back, but she was right there with him, meeting him stroke for stroke, her nails digging into the insides of his thighs as she arched her back and gave a little scream. That sound pushed him over the edge with a hoarse cry.

She collapsed onto his chest, her dark hair flinging over his face, but Boone didn’t have the energy to push it out of the way just yet. Ophelia sighed a little, running a finger up his chest and circling his nipple. “I think that was better than last time.”

He smoothed her hair back so he could see her face. She looked more relaxed than he’d ever seen her, but she glanced away before he could meet her eyes. “Ophelia.”

“I trust you, okay?” She pressed two fingers to his lips before he could tell her that wasn’t what he’d been about to say. Giving him a sleepy smile, she slid off him and curled against his side, tangling her legs with his. “Give me a power nap and we’ll go for round two.”

Considering he was on the verge of passing out, it sounded like a good plan. Still, he needed her to know something. “It wasn’t on purpose, before.”

She closed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Stop being stubborn. Of course it matters.” He wrapped his arms around her when she started to pull away. “I was only supposed to get a look at you.”

“So why didn’t it stop there?”

“How could I resist your charms after I heard you tell that guy you’d cut off his balls and shove them down his throat?”

Boone felt her smile against his chest. “Ah. I remember now. You were at the bar, brooding.”

“I don’t brood.” When she lifted her head and smirked at him, he amended, “I don’t brood
much
.”

…

Ophelia woke in Boone’s arms, which was a little slice of heaven. Having his nosy little sister and a Beshmaiite standing over their bed was
not
. She glanced at them and dropped her head back to Boone’s chest. “Go away.”

Jenny laughed, which woke Boone up. With a snarl to make any Bolkerian proud, he rolled her away from them, somehow managing to snag the blankets and cover them both before finishing the move. Since Jenny was a female and Cole wasn’t remotely human, Ophelia didn’t think he had much to worry about.

Jenny clapped and gave what was probably a happy dance. “Just checking up on you. We’re going to leave Terra III’s atmosphere in three hours. Just thought you’d want to know.”

Boone glared at them, spending extra time on his little sister. “There’s an intercom for a reason.”

“Sure.” She waved away his words as if they were a pesky insect. “But then how would we see the happy couple?”

“We’re not a couple,” Ophelia cut in, trying to ignore the way Boone went still over her.

“Doesn’t look that way to me.”

“Enough,” Boone growled. “Get out.”

Jenny frowned down at them. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“Out.”

“Fine, fine. Be grouchy.” She spoke behind her hand to Cole, loud enough for all to hear. “You’d think, with all the afterglow going around, they’d be in a better mood.”

Cole took one look at Ophelia and Boone and hustled Jenny from the room. He paused to poke his head back in. “Would you like something to eat? Some tea?”

Boone clamped a hand over Ophelia’s mouth. “That would be fine. Knock first.”

A quick grin, and the Beshmaiite was gone, the door closing softly behind him. Ophelia noted the green of the palm lock before she buried her face in the pillow. It was too early to be dealing with this shit. Or maybe it wasn’t early so much as she hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep last night. Boone had woken her up three times, and she’d returned the favor twice. So, yeah, not a lot of sleep going around. She didn’t look up when his hand skimmed over her back, letting him tease the tension from her muscles.

It would be smart to enjoy the moment, to maybe go for another round, but the real world was knocking. They couldn’t stay in the med bay forever, as appealing as it sounded right then. “What happens now?”

Boone’s hand went south, coasting over her ass and teasing the insides of her thighs. “I have a few ideas.”

Ophelia turned her head so she could see his face. “Cole’s coming back.”

“Oh yeah.” He frowned. “Damn.”

“And we’re going to be warping soon.”

He took his hand back and Ophelia couldn’t stifle the surge of disappointment. “You’re right,” he said.

“So what’s the plan?”

“The plan? We get to Valneci, regroup, and then go about getting Kristian staked.”

Ophelia smiled a little. “Sounds very detail orientated. I like it.” She stretched, loving the way his eyes followed the movement. Then Cole came back into the room. He set the tray on the table, damn near scuffing his feet on the ground. “I took the liberty of contacting your mother and ask what types of nutrients Diviners need during their breeding time.”

A buzzing spread over her brain, bleeding red through her vision. “I must have heard you wrong. I thought you just said that you told my mother I was pregnant—my mother who did not know.”

“Ah…” Cole’s eyes went wide, showing white around the edges. He took a sliding step backward. “I, ah, I’ll just be going.”

Ophelia lunged, making it half off the bed when Boone grabbed her around the waist, giving Cole an opportunity to escape. The palm lock blared red, seeming to mock her. “Let go of me.”

Instantly, Boone released her, but he watched closely as she got off the bed and paced the room. Oh hells, who was she kidding? He was staring at her ass.

“He told my mother.”

“I heard.”

She spun, and his gaze jumping to her face. “He told my
mother
.”

“I don’t understand the problem.” A single eyebrow quirked. “Wouldn’t she have found out eventually?”

Ophelia resisted the urge to punch him, if only because it’d end with her screaming his name again. “Think about it this way. If I had the chance to sit her down and explain it to her, I could have done damage control.” When he just stared at her, she bit back a shriek of frustration. “She’s going to tell Papa.”

At that he paled, finally understanding. “She wouldn’t.”

Oh, to be so naive. “Of course she’ll tell him. They don’t keep secrets. She might have suspected before—” And Mama had, she realized. She’d already recommended certain foods and teas when she knew Ophelia was sick. Damn it, her mother should have said something earlier. “But now she knows for sure, so she has to tell him.”

They both were silent for a long moment, thinking of the implications of her father going on a rampage. Because that’s exactly what he’d do. Boone finally sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face. “He’s going to kill me.”

“Probably.” And with his history with Sanctify, he could come up with some really creative ways to do it.

“Maybe we can get off Terra III and back to Valneci quickly enough that he won’t find us.” Boone visibly perked up thinking about it. Ophelia almost hated to burst his bubble. Almost.

“He was a tracker,” she said gently. “He can find you anywhere.”

“Damn.” Then he suddenly smiled. “Guess I’ll have to enjoy my time left.”

Ophelia glanced at the locked door. It wasn’t like they had anything else to do. “What about the food?”

“It’ll keep.” From the way he was looking at her,
she
might have been the meal. Boone held out a hand. “Ready to scream for me again?”

She took a step toward him, keeping just out of reach. “Why don’t you stop talking shit and put that mouth to good use?”

His laugh damn near curled her toes. “Get your ass over here.” Boone reached out and yanked her back onto the bed. She ended up straddling him but, before she could do much about it, he gave her a roguish grin and slithered down. Ophelia’s gasp turned to a moan as he did, indeed, put his mouth to good use.